Moment of Madness
by xsilicax
Summary: Prequel to episode 3.06. Just how well are Connor and Lester getting on as roomies? Just how much does Lester regret making that offer?


**Moment of Madness**

"Why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, WHY did I think this would be a good idea?" Lester muttered to himself, only just resisting the temptation to bang his head against the door behind him.

He'd just reached home after an awful day of justifying the expense and expenditure of all the departments at the ARC to the Minister, on top of all the usual chaos and erratic employees. "Of course we can't get by with less ammunition, what are we supposed to tackle the dinosaurs with, paper and polystyrene?" Christine had obviously been spreading her malicious influence behind the scenes, and the pressure was being put firmly on his shoulders. The traffic had been even more awful than what passes for normal in London; the rain had been lashing down and everything slowed to an almost stationary crawl as a result. Fortunately he had an underground parking space both here and at the ARC, so had avoided getting wet. That was the only thing that had gone his way today. What he had hoped for was a nice quiet evening in front of the television, catching up on some paperwork over a nice relaxing drink. What he had come home to was decidedly not that.

"Connor!"

"Hey boss!" The irritatingly cheerful voice rang out from the sitting room, and the mop-headed figured poked his face around the corner. "Good day at work?"

"What, is_ this_?" Lester set his briefcase on the low table in the hallway and stooped to pick up what he realised was a wet sock only after he'd had it pinched between two fingers and held as firmly away from his body as he could get it.

"Eh," Connor rubbed the back of his head guiltily, "It's a sock, boss."

"I can see that, you idiot," Lester said as scathingly as possible. "I meant what is it doing here, on the floor, instead of on your foot or in its drawer?"

"I was doing some laundry," Connor half-shrugged, looking sheepish. "Got a bit wet on the way home and I don't really have all that many clothes here with me, you know?"

Lester sighed, that was an almost reasonable excuse. "The washing machine is in the kitchen, the dryer is in the utility room attached to it, _not_ in the hallway."

"You have a dryer? This place is so cool!" Connor decidedly missed the point.

"Just put it away." Lester shook his head in disgust and threw the offending item at Connor, turning to leave when something caught his attention.

"Is that my shirt?"

"I'm just borrowing it, honest!" Connor had his hands held up in the surrender position and was backing away as Lester stalked towards him. "I don't think it's really my style anyway." He squawked as he backed himself into a corner and Lester loomed up in front of him.

"Let's make one thing clear." Lester was accentuating his point firmly with his finger stabbing into Connor's chest with every third word. "You do _not_ go in my room. You do _not_ touch my stuff. You do _not_ take my stuff. You _stay_ in your room. You keep your _stuff_ in your room. You keep your _animals_ in your room." This last was a response to one of those dinosaur things running past him a dishtowel flapping behind it. "If at all possible you do not _leave_ your room. Got it?"

"Got it, boss." Connor slid along the wall, escaping into the freedom of the lounge. "Bad day at work, huh? Want some dinner, I left you some in the fridge?" Lester shut his eyes in anguish at the thought of what catastrophe Connor could have let loose in his kitchen. "Hey, do you want this shirt back now?" Connor made motions as though to take it off right there.

"God, no!" Lester held one hand over his eyes, and the other in front of him in the universal stop motion. "Keep it until your clothes are dry then give it back. Clean!" He suddenly interjected. "Give it back clean, and ironed, if you can manage that." That last was muttered almost under his breath. He peeked through his fingers and removed his hand, grateful to see that Connor had stopped undressing. "I'm going to get changed, do try not to lose any more articles of clothing." He headed towards his room knowing full well that Connor was pulling some kind of face and mockingly mouthing those words back at him. "I saw that."

Lester shut the door behind him, sighing. His hand rose immediately to his tie and loosened it with great relish, lifting it over his head, still hooped, and throwing it onto the bed. He could breathe again. He kicked his shoes off, placing them neatly together by the door; normally they would have been stored in the cupboard in the hallway but Connor's offending footwear had caused that to slip his mind. He shrugged his jacket off his shoulders, hanging it on the back of the door; it would need to be brushed before work tomorrow, he made a mental note. He grabbed a new shirt out of the wardrobe, and some slacks, and changed quickly, thankful to see that Connor hadn't messed it up too badly in his hunt for something to wear. Lester threw his old shirt into the laundry basket, and put his suit trousers on the clothes hanger located on the back of his door for that exact purpose. He could probably get another two wears out of them before they needed to go to the dry cleaners. He turned to the bed, meaning to pick up his tie and hang it up as well, and was startled to see two beady eyes sparkling up at him from underneath the bed.

"Oh no," Lester shook his head. "How did you get in here?" The creature chirruped up at him, leaning his head to one side in a querying fashion. "Don't look at me like that," he gesticulated towards the door that he was now holding open. "Go, get out, shoo." The thing mewled at him in response, staying put. Lester growled back at it, leaving the door open, and heading towards the bed from a side angle, hoping to chase it out the room.

"Go on, get!" He clapped his hands together sharply, to startle it. It worked, after a fashion.

Sid, or was it Nancy, Lester couldn't tell, did run out of the room, unfortunately when it was startled it jumped up slightly and somehow managed to put it's beastly head through the hoop in his tie. Lester made a frantic grab for the loose end of it, hoping to use it like a leash, but the thing was too fast, and fled away, out the open door. "Connor! Catch your beast!" he yelled.

"What's going on?" Connor's voice was approaching from the kitchen as Lester quickly picked himself up from the floor where he had landed after his fruitless dive, dusting himself off. "Oh hey, Sid! Nice outfit. Love the stripes."

"Get it off him!" Lester stormed out of his room, closing the door firmly behind him so that the other one didn't get in.

"Aw he's just a baby, he doesn't know any better, do you Sid." Connor was making sickening baby faces and cooing noises as he petted the thing, slipping the now mangled tie off. "He was only playing."

Lester snatched the tie out of Connor's hand. "If he's so young then it's past his bedtime. Put. Him. Away." He opened his door just far enough to get one arm through and felt around for the hook where he could hang his tie, all the while glaring at Connor who reluctantly herded his horrible pets away, mumbling something about an evil ogre man, and telling the things not to listen to anything the nasty man said. He closed his door firmly, wondering if it was too late to call a locksmith to install several secure locks on his guest bedroom door.

Walking past his stereo he turned it on, hoping for some relaxing Brahms as he entered the kitchen to see what slop Connor had decided to pass off as dinner. The calm chords that he had been expecting were not what came blaring out, and he hurried back, turning the radio off. He didn't have the patience tonight to retune it. "New rule, Connor," he muttered to himself. "No changing the stations." He quickly added, "no touching the remote," and, "no changing the temperature in the shower."

Surprisingly his kitchen wasn't a mess. Used plates and dishes and utensils had been stacked neatly in the dishwasher, the surfaces had been wiped down; everything was clean, too clean. Lester was suspicious. A hasty check of the cupboards showed him that he wasn't missing any glasses or bowls, nothing had been broken and disposed of, some of his ingredients had been used, but nothing was disproportionately low, so there hadn't been anything wasted. "Hmm," he huffed. Opening the fridge he found a bowl wrapped in foil, and a six-pack of beer that hadn't been there this morning. He took both out, putting the beer on the side top and cautiously lifting the foil, poking gingerly at the contents before taking a quick sniff. It actually smelled…appetising.

"It's my Grandma's recipe, chicken chilli pasta with extra mushroom." The irritating lodger was back from putting his pets away, and was pestering him again, oh joy. "Three minutes in the microwave should heat it up nicely." The plate was taken from his hand and swiftly heated up to the accompanying hum of the machine. "So what's the plan for this evening?" Connor rubbed his hands in what looked like a sort of nervous anticipation.

"I, will eat dinner, drink some beer, work quietly in front of the television," Lester replied. "You," he paused, "can have some beer."

"That's it?" Connor pulled the ring on his can, and took a swig. "Sure is swinging in here."

Lester opened a cupboard and shoved a glass at him. "What?" Connor asked.

"Use it, don't drink out of the can, and use a coaster!" This last was yelled out as Connor retreated into the lounge and sprawled untidily in one of the leather chairs. "Don't you dare spill anything," Lester mumbled as the microwave pinged telling him his dinner was ready.

"Ow, ow, ow!" he cried out as he had to remove the bowl from the heater with his bare hands. Seems the dishtowel never got returned after one of the beasts acquired it, so he had nothing to shield his hands with. At least it smelled ok; maybe it was worth the reddening skin on his fingers. He sat down at the table, stirring through the plate and carefully examining the contents before daring to take a bite. He took a second, and then a third, before taking a swig from his glass of beer. This was actually good. Maybe there was a slight upside to having a roommate after all. He quickly finished the plate, rinsing it off and putting it in the dishwasher, before taking a deep breath and a deep drink and stepping back into the lounge. To his amazement there wasn't some pop music rubbish on the television, Connor was actually watching a documentary.

"It's so cool," he heard Connor exclaim into his phone as he sat down on the lounge. "They have no idea what these dinosaurs are really like. I bet I could make a fortune writing the truth for one these, huh Abby?"

Lester grunted. Looked like one stooge was talking to the other stooge. He stepped into the hallway and retrieved his briefcase, enjoying the irritated glance he was shot as he snapped open the clasps firmly on his return. He saw Connor reach over and turn up the volume on the television. He promptly reached out and turned it down, keeping the remote and quelling anything Connor had to say with a glare. He heard the boy mutter something over the phone to his little playmate, but couldn't catch what was said. He was sure he hadn't missed out on anything. He eased himself down onto the sofa, spreading the paperwork out on the glass table, and took another pull of his beer, settling in for another couple of hours of work. He managed thirty minutes worth before the programme Connor was watching finished, and he started channel hopping. When had he sneaked the controller back?

Lester gritted his teeth, trying to concentrate on the words in front of him. They were written in legalese and required careful study or else the research department would not be getting the funding it claimed to so desperately need. He did not want to have to put up with the whining that that would result in from Connor both at work and at home, so he grabbed the remote out of the imbecile's hand and switched off the television.

"Hey, I was watching that!" Connor exclaimed.

"And now you aren't." Lester retorted, not looking up from his page. Connor crossed his arms over his chest in a sulky pose, pouting as though he was a toddler and his toy was taken from him. That description probably wasn't too far out, Lester mused. Connor quickly perked up though, and Lester sighed. That meant that he was about to do something, he was sure of it.

"What are you doing?" Lester looked up from the paper he was reading, and recoiled sharply as his face was invaded by a mess of unruly hair and inquisitive looks.

"Gah! Don't do that!" he waved him back.

"I was just curious," Connor had on his look of vacant innocence again, and Lester sighed wondering when this evening would ever end.

"Well don't be." The clock over the mantelpiece chimed ten-thirty. "Maybe you should retire for the night? We leave at seven tomorrow."

"Seven?" Was it wrong to feel glee at the look of horror on Connor's face?

Lester raised his eyes. "My days start early, unless you want to walk?"

"No, no, seven's fine. You have cereal right? And coffee?" Sugar and Caffeine, Lester shook his head. They were two of the food groups the hyperactive idiot should avoid at all costs.

"Well, goodnight." Connor backed awkwardly out of the room, giving a half wave and a cheesy grin.

Lester sighed with relief as the imbecile headed towards the guest room, and stretched out full length on the couch with a comfortable sigh. He figured he should be able to manage at least another half hour of work before he needed to call it a night. His plans were abandoned as his increasingly unwelcome lodger's pets escaped and headed straight towards him.

He sat up swiftly, and stuffed his paperwork into the protection of the briefcase before turning to Connor who had scurried after them and was trying to herd them back into his room. "I'm retiring for the night. Put these pets away, don't let them touch anything, and try not to touch anything yourself," he added as an afterthought.

He was fairly sure that Connor poked his tongue out behind his back. "Night boss," he heard, as he resisted the urge to slam his bedroom door shut behind him. He didn't reply.

The scuffling and clicking of claws against his laminate floor caused him to scowl at the hopefully solid barrier. If they damaged the surface he would take great pleasure in the extra paperwork that would be involved in extracting the cost from Temple's paycheck. The sound of glass breaking and a guiltily yelled, "Sorry!" had him wincing and actually dreading going out there in the morning. Hastily changing for bed, he abandoned all hope of studying those papers tonight with that racket going on; he would have to make time tomorrow at work. Why had he even considered for a moment allowing that pest to stay here with his pests?

Lester had everything in this apartment settled just right for him, calm, ordered and quiet. Now, he felt a headache coming on, and his home felt invaded and in the process of being destroyed. He should have realised that there was a good reason no one else had taken pity on Connor and welcomed him in. "Why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, WHY did I think this would be a good idea?" He covered his head with his pillow, wondering which was the best solution: smothering himself, or smothering Connor. He decided to sleep on it.


End file.
